I heard a meow. Lucille was kneading the bottom of my mattress. Ever since she lost her bed to Harlon James IV, she had taken over mine. My dad had rushed back from Charleston the night of the so-called twister, and he’d found Aunt Prue’s dog the next day, cowering in a corner of the kindergarten yard. Once Harlon James arrived at our house, he wasn’t much different from the Sisters. He made himself right at home in Lucille’s bed. Eating Lucille’s chicken dinners off her china plate. Even scratching Lucille’s cat post.
“Aw, come on, Lucille. You’ve lived with them longer than I have.” But it didn’t matter. As long as the Sisters were living with us, Lucille was living with me.
Lena gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and leaned over the side of the bed to dig through her bag. An old copy of Great Expectations slipped out. I recognized it right away.
“What’s that?”
Lena picked it up, avoiding my eyes. “It’s called a book.” She knew what I was really asking.
“Is it the one you found in Sarafine’s box?” I already knew it was.
“Ethan, it’s just a book. I read lots of them.”
“It’s not just a book, L. What’s going on?”
Lena hesitated, then flipped through the tattered pages. When she reached a dog-eared page, she started to read: “ ‘And could I look upon her without compassion, seeing her punishment in the ruin she was, in her profound unfitness for this Earth on which she was placed….’ ” Lena stared into the book, as if there were answers inside that only she could see. “That passage was underlined.”
I knew Lena was curious about her mother—not Sarafine, but the woman we had seen in the vision—the one who had cradled Lena in her arms as a baby. Maybe Lena believed the book or the metal box of her mother’s things held the answers. But it didn’t matter what was underlined in any old copy of Dickens.
Nothing in that box was free of the blood on Sarafine’s hands.
I reached out and grabbed the book. “Give it to me.” Before Lena could say a word, my bedroom faded away—
It had started to rain, as if the sky was matching Sarafine tear for tear. By the time she reached the Eades house, she was drenched. She climbed the white trellis under John’s window and hesitated. She pulled the sunglasses she stole from Winn-Dixie out of her pocket and put them on before knocking lightly on the glass.
Too many questions were tangled up in her mind. What was she going to tell John? How could she make him understand she was still the same person? Would a Light Caster still love her now that she was… this?
“Izabel?” John was half asleep, his dark eyes staring back at her. “What are you doing out there?” He grabbed her hand before she could answer, and pulled her inside.
“I—I needed to see you.”
John reached for the lamp on his desk.
Sarafine grabbed his hand. “Don’t. Leave it off. You’ll wake up your parents.”
He looked at her more closely, his eyes adjusting to the dark. “Did something happen? Are you hurt?”
She was beyond hurt, beyond hope, and there was no way to prepare John for what she was about to tell him. He knew about her family and the curse. But Sarafine had never told John the date of her real birthday. She had made up a date, one that was several months away, so he wouldn’t worry. He didn’t know that tonight was her Sixteenth Moon—the night she had been dreading for as long as she could remember.
“I don’t want to tell you.” Sarafine’s voice broke as she choked back tears.
John pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on her head. “You’re so cold.” He rubbed his hands over her arms. “I love you. You can tell me anything.”
“Not this,” she whispered. “Everything’s ruined.”
Sarafine thought about all the plans they had made. Going off to college together, John next year and Sarafine the year after. John was going to study engineering, and she planned to major in literature. She had always wanted to be a writer. After they graduated, they would get married.
There was no point thinking about it. None of it would happen now.
John squeezed her tighter. “Izabel, you’re scaring me. Nothing could ruin what we have.”
Sarafine pushed him away and pulled off the sunglasses, revealing the golden-yellow eyes of a Dark Caster. “Are you sure about that?”
For a second, John only stared. “What happened? I don’t understand.”
She shook her head, the tears burning the skin on her icy cheeks. “It was my birthday. I never told you because I was sure I would go Light. I didn’t want you to worry. But at midnight—”
Sarafine couldn’t finish. He knew what she was going to say. He could see it in her eyes.
“It’s a mistake. It has to be.” She was talking to herself as much as to John. “I’m still the same person. They say you feel different when you go Dark—you forget about the people you care about. But I haven’t. I never will.”
“I think it happens gradually….” John’s voice trailed off.
“I can fight it! I don’t want to be Dark. I swear.” It was too much—her mother turning her away, her sister calling for her, losing John. Sarafine couldn’t face any more heartbreak. She crumpled, her body sinking to the floor.
John knelt beside her, gathering her into his arms. “You’re not Dark. I don’t care what color your eyes are.”
“No one believes that. My mother wouldn’t even let me in the house.” Sarafine choked.
John pulled her up. “Then we’ll leave tonight.” He grabbed a duffel bag and started shoving clothes into it.